“What? You don’t mean——”
“Yes, I do, old chap. He came to the room just as I was starting over here.”
“Great Scott! Did—did the money come? But of course it didn’t! Was he mad? What did he say? He didn’t—didn’t go to Charlie, did he?” Bert’s anxiety was so great that Hugh, although tempted, didn’t have the heart to prolong his suspense.
“It’s all right, Bert. I paid him twenty dollars and he’s gone home quite satisfied. In fact, he said I—that is, you needn’t hurry with the rest of it, and that if you want any more togs all you’ve got to do is let him know.”
“But where did you ever get twenty dollars?” gasped Bert.
Hugh laughed. “Borrowed it, of course. I had six myself, Cathcart loaned me five, and Mr. Crump nine.”
“Mr. Crump! Mr. Crump? Are you crazy?”
“No, only exhausted.”
“But you don’t mean Mr. Crump, the janitor?”